Britannia's Mistake
by Whymsical
Summary: When England gets drunk enough, he turns into Britannia Angel. The morning after, he's back to normal. But one day, he doesn't revert back. And to make matters worse, there's someone knocking at his door. USUK, rated T for language.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N**: Hey guys, new story! I'm really excited about this one, it's one of my favourites. This was also RPed out with my brilliant RP partner. It will be posted in three long parts. Hope you enjoy!

Hetalia (c) Hidekaz Himaruya

* * *

Arthur woke up to a massive hangover. That in itself wasn't really either surprising or troubling. However, the cool air on his bare skin had the potential of being problematic. Although he was tangled up in his sheets, something felt off. Even in his hazy mind he could find no recollection of taking his clothes off, and there was no one else in his bed.

Moaning, he turned onto his side, his hands brushing against some of the fabric covering him. It was...smooth and silky, much softer than his sheets ever were, and most likely ever would be. He stiffened.

No.

It couldn't be.

He hadn't drunk _that_ much, had he? And yet, it was. He was wearing a toga.

Cursing, he sprang up and ran to the nearest mirror to verify his explanation. And sure enough, as he rose he felt a weight on his back. Tilting his head to the side, he caught glimpse of feathers. Then he was in front of his bathroom mirror, where he groaned.

Problematic indeed. The toga settled gracefully around his body as he stood there, panting. With every breath, the wings growing from his back rose slightly before falling, and the halo floating above his head pulsated with light.

The fact that he was an angel wasn't all that disquieting- he had been Britannia Angel before. No, it was the little detail that his body- the wings, the toga, and the halo- hadn't reverted back that was the issue. He didn't know the reason why he had stuck like this, so therefore he didn't know if and when he'd turn back. And God, if anyone ever found him like this...

His hangover suddenly felt much worse. And of course right then, someone knocked on his door.

"Yo, Artie, are ya home? Franny said you were probably drunk, and I came to see if ya didn't kill anyone on accident~!" Alfred's voice called cheerfully through the door, accompanied by more knocks.

Arthur groaned again. "One moment!" he called back, and winced as his voice echoed through his head.

He quickly cast around for something to put on over the toga and finally had to settle on a bathrobe. Folding the wings tightly against his back, he put it on and secured it tightly. With no better ideas for now, he threw a hat on his head to hide the halo.

Finally, he went down and cracked the door open. "What do you want, Alfred?"

"Yo, Art- ...Are ya wearing a fedora? With your bathrobe? " Alfred grinned, pushing the door open more.

Arthur backed away from him. "Yes, I am. Is that a problem?"

Alfred snickered, stepping in. "Whatevs. Well, I came to see what's up. You alright and everything?" He closed the door behind him.

"Yes, I'm fine. You're not needed here, so go home."

Of course right then, the hat floated off his head, the halo slipping out from under it and returning to its place above his hair. Arthur snatched it and held it tightly against his side, which was kind of hard to do since the halo kept wanting to go back to being above his head.

Alfred blinked, staring at him. "...What...What the hell was that?!"

"That was nothing, Alfred. Don't worry about it." Arthur said, and then grunted softly as the halo pulsed brighter and tugged harder at his arm.

The American blinked again, stepping closer. "Is that...?"

"It's nothing!" Arthur snapped, jerking his hand back to hide it behind his back, simultaneously taking another small step away.

"...Artie, you're really bad at lying." He reached out to take the shining object when it suddenly got out of Arthur's grip and flew up to hover above his head. Alfred jumped back in surprise. "Holy- is that a halo?!"

Cursing, Arthur ripped the halo off his head and stuck it deep into his robe pocket. "No, it's not." he said shortly. "It's just some...rogue magic."

"It looks a lot like a halo! Rogue magic?"

"I-It's not a halo!" Arthur turned and stalked away, hoping to end the conversation. He didn't notice when two feathers floated down from beneath his robe and fell to the ground.

"Oh come on-" Alfred froze as he stepped forward and almost onto the feathers. "...You don't have a bird, do ya?"

"No, I don't-" Arthur turned around and stared, horrified, at the feathers. He lunged forward and snatched them up, taking his hand from his pocket as he did so. The halo cheerily zoomed up to float above his head again.

Alfred yelped in surprise. "It _is_ a halo, you liar! Where are the feathers coming from?" He looked around for a white bird before stopping to stare at the Brit. A few more feathers then fell to the ground under him. "...Are you choking a bird under your robe?"

Arthur's wings fluffed up slightly with nervousness, the small bulges on his back growing more pronounced as they did. "I-I'm not! I don't have a bloody bird anywhere near me! Just leave, Alfred! I'm perfectly fine!"

"Holy shit." Before Arthur could protest or react, Alfred pulled the robe off him, staring at him with wide eyes. "...Who are you, and where's England?!"

Now free, the wings spread to their full length before settling down loosely against Arthur's back. "I am England!" he protested, backing away even more, until his back hit the wall.

Alfred blinked. "You- You- Wings!" he started to stammer, before trying to calm himself down. "D-Don't be scared Artie, I'm just...whoa."

"I'm not scared!" In truth, Arthur was a little nervous about what Alfred could do, such as try to rip out the wings or something along those lines. He knew _that_ situation was unlikely, but you never know. He stayed against the wall. "And what, you've never seen wings before?"

"Not one someone! I mean...not counting the Victoria Secret's show, but!" Alfred cautiously stepped closer. "Can I...""

Arthur held perfectly still. "Can you what?" he asked quietly.

"...Touch them?"

Arthur hesitated, weighing the pros and cons. Then, after a moment, he slowly spread them out. "J-Just be carefully, okay?" He glanced around for anything that could be possibly used as a defense weapon, just in case, and his eyes settled on a vase.

Alfred gently reached out and brushed his fingers against the feathers, eyes wide with awe. He quickly pulled back, as if scared he'd ruin something. "Whoa..." he breathed.

Arthur had closed his eyes at the touch, and he opened them now. "What?"

"That's real cool." Alfred let his fingers ghost over the feathers again. "Did ya tape these on or something?"

Arthur shivered at the touch. "No, they're actually attached to my back. By bone and muscle." He gestured to the base of the wings, where they melded smoothly with his back.

Alfred stepped to the side to look, eyes widening. "How?!"

"Normally...? I've never questioned the mechanics."

"I mean, where'd you get them?!"

"Britannia Angel. They should have disappeared when he left, and I don't know why they didn't."

"...Uh...elaborate."

Arthur stepped away from him. "Well, whenever I get too drunk, I turn into Britannia Angel. He then goes off and does some stuff during the night, and when morning comes, I turn back. I only have some vague snapshots of what he does, but I don't actually do the stuff. Except today the wings, toga, and halo didn't disappear, so I'm stuck like this for who knows how long."

Alfred stared at him before snickering softly. "Britannia Angel?"

Arthur reddened. "Shut up!"

The American let his snickering die down. "That's...That's really cool! Whoa- Can you fly?!"

"No, these are just for decoration." Arthur said sarcastically. "Of course I can bloody well fly!"

Alfred brightened up. "Then fly!"

"There's no room here, idiot. And I can't go outside and risk anyone seeing me like this."

Alfred blinked, bouncing in his spot a bit. "You're fine, just a lil' bit!"

Arthur hesitated for a moment, and then stalked over to the back door, opening it and stepping outside. The sunlight caught his toga and wings and made them seemingly glow with a blinding white light. "Don't you dare look up under my toga." he said before flapping powerfully and shooting up in the air.

Alfred watched, eyes going wide. "Holy- that's awesome!" he called up, loud enough for Arthur to hear.

The Brit felt really good. It was really exceedingly rare that he himself could fly, without the Angel interfering with anything. He did a few laps around his yard, making sure to stay low, before stopping in front of Alfred. He hovered in place a few inches off the ground, just high enough to make him taller than the other man, flapping every now and then to stay up.

Alfred flinched in surprise when Arthur stopped in front of him. His eyes were still wide in awe and he broke into a smile, looking up at him. "Awesome."

Arthur smiled a bit in response as he dropped to the ground, landing lightly. He then immediately rushed back inside so that no one would see him if they stuck their heads over the fence.

"Oi!" Alfred jogged after him, closing the door behind him. "Calm down, you're fine."

"I don't want to take any chances." Arthur suddenly stepped right up to Alfred and looked him straight in the eyes. "You cannot tell _anyone_ about this, you hear?"

Alfred smirked lightly and nodded. "Yeah, yeah."

"I'm serious, America."

Shit, that tone always meant he was serious. "I got you, _England_."

Arthur stared at him for a moment more before stepping away. "Good. You can go home now." He turned away and slipped the robe back on.

Alfred watched him. "No way, someone'll take ya to the zoo! Lemme try and help~!"

"Help with what? Unless someone barges into the house, I'll be fine as long as I stay inside." The zoo part scared him, though. Very much so. The United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, even in angel form, was not someone to be displayed at the zoo. Arthur didn't think he could ever live that down.

"Turn ya back! And what if someone does barge in?! You'll be stuck in a cage!"

Arthur paled even more at that. "I-I'll be fine. Besides, what can you do to help turn me back? You know nothing of magic."

"So? I could help with little stuff..."

"Such as?"

"Uh...make food and stuff? I dunno, I'll be your bodyguard and stuff~!"

"Bodyguard?" Arthur raised an eyebrow. But then he thought about the cage and zoo again and considered his options. "A-Alright...I suppose it wouldn't be too bad if you stay..."

Alfred fist-pumped. "Awesome! No one'll hurt 'cha, I promise~!"

Arthur smiled softly again. "Thank you..." he said quietly.

"No problem." Alfred smiled back, before clapping his hands loudly. "Welp! What now?"

Arthur jumped slightly at the loud noise. "I'm not sure. I was planning on simply waiting and seeing if I'll turn back."

"Oh, kay, that's a good idea..." Alfred looked around. "I guess so. What can we do when we wait?"

"You can start by getting me some Advil and water." Arthur moaned. His headache, which had fled in the panic of Alfred discovering him like this, returned now full force. He walked over to the couch and collapsed onto it, careful of his wings.

Alfred nodded and left to search the house for the items. He found the Advil in the bathroom and water in the kitchen. He brought them over to him in a few minutes. "Arthur?"

Wincing, Arthur sat up and accepted the items. He downed them and took the robe off, curling back into the couch. One wing was hanging off over the side, and the other was resting over his eyes to shut out the light.

Alfred smiled softly at the pose, and then moved to pull the blinds down. Once he did that, he draped a blanket over the resting Brit.

Arthur mumbled a 'Thank you', and the wing over his eyes relaxed and slid off him to join its counterpart on the floor, somehow managing not to disturb the blanket. He then drifted off to sleep.

Alfred stared down at him for a little while before plopping down on the floor and playing gently with his feathers.

He was still doing so when Arthur woke up a half-hour later. "Nice, aren't they?" he asked sleepily.

Alfred nodded with another smile. "They're real soft."

Arthur reached down, fumbling around for a moment before finding his robe. He withdrew one of the previously discarded feathers and offered it to him. "You can have this one if you want."

"Thanks, Artie!" Alfred brightened up and carefully took it.

Arthur nodded. "A few more will come off eventually." He sighed with pleasure, enjoying the feeling when the American was playing with the wings.

Alfred examined the feather he'd received closely, stopping at his play with the rest for a moment. "Wow...is it magical?"

"No, not really. It's just a feather now, even if it is softer and whiter than others." Arthur murmured, shifting around for a moment before closing his eyes again.

"Sorry, you should sleep. Anything else you need?"

"Don't apologize...and no, I'm fine. You should get some sleep too." Arthur muttered, pulling the blanket up to his chin and effectively hiding the wings from sight.

Alfred blinked, glancing around. "...I guess so..." Though he would have no idea _where_ to sleep.

Cracking his eyes open a bit, Arthur watched him. A second later, he was up. He pulled the couch out, turning it into a bed, before getting back into it and settling down on the very edge, leaving plenty of room for Alfred. "Here..." he said, getting comfortable again.

Alfred moved as Arthur started to pull it out, watching. "Oh...'kay, cool, thanks." He carefully climbed in on the other end of the bed.

"Mhm...good night, then." Arthur closed his eyes, and drifted off.

Alfred sighed and muttered a 'Night' back, trying to fall asleep. Which he did after a few minutes.

Arthur wasn't able to sleep for long, though, and he woke up ravenous half an hour later. He slipped out of bed in a way that wouldn't disturb Alfred and padded to the kitchen in search of food. He groaned when he saw the literally empty shelves. Deliberating for a moment, he went upstairs and pulled on some clothes, putting on a big trench coat over them to hide his wings. He then stepped out to go buy some food.

When Alfred woke up, he turned to look behind him and paled when he couldn't find Arthur. He immediately froze, calling the other nation's name. When no one responded, he got up and started to look around quickly.

Arthur, meanwhile, glanced around nervously as he walked, convinced that someone would call him out for the wings in a moment. He hurried to the store and then stood there, trying to figure out what to buy. After a few minutes, he decided, bought the stuff, and went home, practically running. He entered the house quietly and went to the kitchen as silently as he could manage.

Alfred was in there, and when he heard the other's arrival he turned on his heel. "Arthur, where the hell were you?!" He hugged him tightly.

Arthur froze. "A-Alfred? I just went to get some food."

"Why didn't you wake me up so I could come?! Or know?!"

Arthur squirmed slightly in his grip. "I didn't want to disturb you."

"So?! I thought you got hurt!"

"You were worried?"

"No shit!"

Arthur tried pulling away from the hug, his back stiff. "Well I apologize for worrying you, but as you can see, I was fine." He didn't mention how paranoid he was the whole time.

Alfred felt him stiffen and try to pull back, so he let him. "Sorry, sorry, but I was fucking worried! Don't do that again, damnit!"

Arthur sighed and leaned forward tiredly, resting his forehead on Alfred's shoulder. "I'm sorry for that. Next time I'll be sure to wake you." he said, his voice coming out slightly mechanical-like. He didn't add how it would be in the most annoying way possible.

Alfred blinked, looking at him, surprised by his sudden closeness. "...Okay... thanks."

Arthur moved back again and unpacked what he'd bought. "Would you mind making something? I'm a tad hungry."

Alfred nodded. "What'd you buy?"

"Eggs, milk, cheese, mushrooms, ground coffee, tea, some biscuits, and some strawberries."

"...The hell do I make with that?!"

"Omelet?"

"...Oh."

Arthur chuckled lightly. "You really didn't put that together?" he asked, and took off the trench coat. He also shed the shirt underneath it, so he was just wearing pants and the toga. The top of it went over his shoulder, but the skirt was tucked into his pants. This way, the wings were free again.

Alfred snickered at the way he looked. "Well, I dunno, I don't think you'd wanna have strawberries in it."

"The strawberries would be on the side, idiot." Arthur said, taking the tea and coffee and starting to make it. Even though he was a horrible cook, his drinks always came out good, even the coffee.

"I'm not an idiot-" Alfred's nose scrunched up. "Strawberries and mushrooms?"

"I don't know, do what you want."

Alfred rolled his eyes as he gathered all the necessary supplies to start making the omelet.

Arthur made the tea and coffee and set the cups on the table. He then sat down and watched Alfred work.

The American kept his back to the table, fixing his glasses from time to time as he worked. Minutes later, he flipped an omelet onto a plate in front of Arthur. "There."

"Thank you." Arthur took a piece of it. "Mmm, it's good." He took a sip of his tea and pointed to the coffee on the table across from him. "There's your...drink."

"You made me coffee?" Alfred hadn't realized the smell. "Wow...thanks."

Arthur shrugged. "Yes, well...you don't really like tea, and I had no coffee, so I bought some."

Alfred smiled a bit. "Thank you."

"No problem." Arthur finished the omelet and leaned back.

Alfred drank some of his coffee, looking at him. "So what's up?"

"Oh, not much. I'm just stuck as a bloody angel for who knows how long, but that's most certainly not a problem." Arthur muttered.

Alfred rolled his eyes. "Some angel you are."

"Excuse me? There's a halo, wings, and a blasted toga, what more do I need?"

"Angels don't curse. Or have gigantic eyebrows."

Arthur huffed and stood up, walking over to him. The scowl was gone from his face, and he was smiling. He looked happy. "Alfred..." he murmured in a soft, breathy voice when he reached him. "I'm sorry I can't do anything about the eyebrows..." he said all innocent-like. He pouted slightly as he rested a hand on Alfred's shoulder.

Alfred stared up at him. "...The fuck?"

Arthur smiled down gently at him, reaching up with his other hand to run it through Alfred's hair. "Oh, don't worry love, this is my nice angel side. Is this better?"

"Holy shit, you're scaring me." Alfred bowed his head a bit under his hand.

Arthur suddenly backed away from him, looking like he was about to cry. "So you don't like me?" His wings curled upwards to surround his shoulders, partially hiding his face.

Alfred blinked, completely not knowing what was going on. "N-Not true, Art, what the hell?!"

"Yes it is, why are you even here?!" Arthur hugged himself, looking absolutely miserable.

"Holy f-fuck." Alfred got up and gently went over to him. "U-Um, you okay?"

"N-No, I'm not!" He bowed his head.

Alfred gently reached out to hug him.

Arthur hugged him back for a moment before hitting him in the side, hard. "Good, now don't make me bloody do that ever again!" he snapped, the familiar scowl back on his face.

"OW! Shit!" Alfred fell to his knees, holding his side. "Owwww. You were nicer earlier."

"You want nice, go to Britannia Angel, the bloody pussy."

Alfred groaned. "Ow..." He lay down on the ground.

Arthur sighed and gently rubbed the area he had hit. "Sorry...but you deserved it. And why are you here? Why didn't France come himself?"

"...The hell are you talking about? I came by and found you- why would France come anyways?!" Alfred let him rub the spot, relaxing a bit.

"To poke fun, the bastard. He always relishes a chance for new blackmail." Arthur stopped for a moment as something sunk in. "Oh god, if he'd found me..." Well, Britannia Angel wouldn't be as innocent, that's for sure.

"Okay, whatever." Alfred rubbed the spot again, since Arthur stopped.

The Brit rose and went to the door of his cellar. Time to actually do something about the angel parts. "Stay up here. There's ghosts down there." he told him.

Alfred froze. "Wh-What?! Why are you going down then?!"

"Because I have to find a spell to turn me back." Arthur opened the door and was met with a gust of cool air.

Alfred ran over, grabbing him and hugging him tightly, kicking the door shut at the same time. "No! You can't go there!"

"A-Alfred! I can't very well stay like this! Let me go, I'll be fine!" Arthur protested, struggling against the American's arms. It didn't work out that well.

"No! What if the ghosts hurt you?!"

Arthur laughed. "They won't hurt me, don't worry."

"They will."

Arthur looked deep into his eyes. "Don't worry, Alfred, they won't. But I really have to find a way back. You wouldn't want me to stay like this forever, right?"

"They will, ghost are evil!"

"They're not evil, and even if they did attack, I would be able to take care of them."

"No! Ghosts!"

Arthur sighed. "Will you come with me, then? To protect me?"

Alfred paled. "F-From ghosts? Y-You could stay!"

"Alfred. Calm down." Arthur sighed again. "Look, there's no ghosts, I just said that so you would stay up here. And I do need to find a way to turn back."

"...Why'd you lie?!"

"I didn't want you down there. There's delicate, private stuff there that I don't need you being around."

"...But there's no ghosts?"

"No. No ghosts."

"...You sure?"

"Pretty sure, yes."

"Pretty sure?!"

"POSITIVE. That better?"

"You sure?"

"Absolutely fucking positive. Can you let me go now?"

Alfred slowly let go. "Call if you need help."

"Thank you." Arthur opened the door and went downstairs, shutting it behind him. It was dark in the cellar, so he bumped into a few things. He cursed at them and finally found his bookshelf. He lit a candle and settled down to read.

Alfred waited, expecting to be called down for help. When he wasn't, he settled himself on the couch with Arthur's laptop, which he found laying around.

Arthur took down some spell books and sat down one of the chairs by the book case. His fairy friends appeared to help. One particular mischievous fairy grabbed the book he was currently reading and flew off with it.

"Hey- No!" he yelled. "Give that ba-" He cut off with a curse. When he'd gotten up, one of his wings had clipped the shelf and he tumbled down in a heap. The fairies disappeared at the shout and the book fell to the ground.

Alfred flinched when he heard a crash. "Art?!" He quickly ran down the stairs, blinking and looking around. "Arthur?! Are you okay?!"

Arthur groaned and propped himself up on his arms. "Ugh...yes, I'm fine. Just some fairies messing around."

"Are you sure?" Alfred ran over to him, helping him up.

He leaned heavily on the American for a moment before stepping away. "Thank you. Yes, I'm sure. But you have to leave now." Arthur prayed that Alfred wouldn't look around too closely and see the different memorabilia he kept there, namely photo albums of him and his brothers, and him and a younger Alfred. He turned quickly to the stairs. "Let's go, there's nothing here."

Alfred blinked. "Okay, sorry, sorry." He let Arthur lead him away, though he was a bit curious now.

Arthur went upstairs and collapsed onto the couch. "Nothing to do but wait now, then."

"So you didn't find anything?" Alfred hoped Arthur wouldn't mind his laptop was used.

"No. How did you guess the password?" Arthur asked, pointing to the laptop.

Alfred shrugged. "I did hacking before."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Of course you did." He paused as an idea came to him. "Alfred, I'll need you to run out later and get a few things from the store for me."

"Oh. Yeah, sure, no problem. I mean, the hell do ya need suddenly?"

"Oh...just some more food." Arthur said, and proceeded to list some of the most obscure British foods he could think of.

Alfred blinked at him, and after a few seconds raised a hand. "Ugh...write me a list, dude."

Arthur smirked and wrote down the list in his best calligraphy cursive. In other words, it was nearly unreadable. "Here you are." he said, handing the paper over to him.

Alfred stared at him for a bit, before blinking up at him. "...You better gimme enough money for all of this."

Arthur sighed. "It's 'give me' not 'gimme', if anything." He got up and walked over to the closet, digging out his wallet. He passed Alfred a few notes. "This should cover it. Get nothing else."

"No tip for the delivery man?" Alfred asked, pursing his lips.

"If you do a good job, you'll get a tip."

"But I wanna use my tip for a snack."

Arthur pinched his nose. "Fine. Hell, you are so annoying." He thrust one more note at him and turned away irritably, placing the wallet away back in its place in his coat pocket.

Alfred grinned brightly. "Thanks Artie!" He stood up.

"Just go already." Arthur snapped, leaving the room.

Alfred was already pulling his shoes and coat on. But as his fingers curled around the doorknob, he glanced back for a brief moment. "Hey Art? Lock the door, kay?"

"But you don't have a key. And I may be...unable to open the door later."

"The fuck does that mean?!"

Arthur shrugged. "I could be asleep. Or in the basement." Or drunk. But he didn't add that one out loud.

"Then don't go to sleep or in the basement."

"Alright, alright. I'll lock the bloody door."

"Then come on."

Arthur stalked to the door and held it open for him. "Now just go already."

Alfred stepped partially out. "And open it when I knock four times." he instructed him.

"I will. Go." Arthur practically pushed him out.

"Oi!" Alfred stopped outside the door. "Lock it."

Arthur slammed the door in his face and made a big show of locking it. "There. Are you satisfied?" he mouthed through the small panel of glass near the top of the stout door. Then he turned and marched away.

Alfred had been tempted to mouth 'No' right back at him, but Arthur had already turned away. He rolled his eyes at him before turning himself and making his way to the store, trying to read whatever the fuck Arthur had written.

Arthur made a beeline for his liquor cabinet. He'd had a brilliant idea that if he could get drunk enough to call the Angel, then maybe he would turn back to normal when the other being left again. He lined up a few bottles of rum and whiskey on the table before writing a note to Alfred. It read '_I apologize you have to find me in this state, but it's the only idea I have at this point_.'

He had just taken his second sip of alcohol when the front door crashed open. "Alfred, you bloody idiot, you were supposed to knock four times!" he snapped, rushing to try and hide the bottles.

But he needn't have worried about that. It wasn't Alfred who walked through the doorway.

"Privyet, Angliya." Ivan said, smiling as he entered.

"R-Russia?!" Arthur's wings fluffed up in shock, and his eyes widened. He stood, chair crashing to the ground behind him. "What are you doing here?" he asked, starting to slowly back away.

Ivan looked thoughtful. "I was hiding from my sister in your country, when I happened to see a flying man in your backyard." He slowly stepped closer and closer. "I came closer and saw you." His smile grew. "We will have fun, da?" By this point, he had backed Arthur into a corner. "I've never had and angel to play with." He reached out and stroked the feathers.

Arthur shivered at the touch. It didn't feel good, like when Alfred was touching them. "A-Alfred..." It slipped out.

Ivan's eyes turned dark. His fingers abruptly curled around a feather and he ripped it out. There was blood on the tip. He let it drop, and stamped on it with his heel. "Do not mention that name." His voice was soft, but that only made it scarier.

The Brit winced when his precious feather was ripped out, and again when it was trodden on. "G-Get out!" He tried pushing the Russian away.

Ivan, still smiling, kept him back effortlessly. He wrapped his scarf around Arthur's mouth, nose, and neck, and waited. Once Arthur lost consciousness, he tied and gagged him. He glanced around the kitchen and frowned. "This place is so boring..." He placed a vase full of sunflowers on the table. "Much better." He smiled broadly again and left, leaving the broken door ajar.

* * *

Where did that Russia come from?! Oh right, the bushes. XD

Angliya= England in Russian

So what do you guys think? All credit in this fic for America goes to my awesome RP partner, while I was writing as England (again).


	2. Chapter 2

Hey guys! Second chapter now! Wow, I really wasn't expecting so many follows and favourites and reviews right off the bat, so thanks a bunch to everyone who did so~! And now, without further ado, enjoy!

* * *

And when Alfred found the door open a bit, he groaned. Arthur could be such an annoying douche when he was so stubborn. He'd probably left it open to screw with the American.

But then he walked closer and saw it was broken. His eyes went wide. He dropped the bag of food by the door, along with his pack of shitty (in his opinion) British candy.

"ARTHUR?!" There were bottles on the table and he disregarded the note Arthur had written because he knew the Brit hadn't had enough time to get violently drunk, if the many full bottles were anything to go by.

And then he found the screwed up, bloodied feather. His eyes widened more, if that was even possible, and his heart stopped.

He noticed the sunflowers next.

"That motherfucking communist." he growled. He quickly picked up the feather and stuck it in his pocket before running to Ivan's house and hoping the bastard was at home.

* * *

Arthur was tied on his stomach on a bed in a small, dark room. His wrists and ankles were secured to each of the bedposts and his wings were sticking up in the air. The toga skirt rode dangerously high on his backside, for Ivan had stripped him of his pants the moment they'd arrived at the huge, cold house. The other man had claimed it was 'to see all of the angelic splendour', but had luckily done no more than take the pants away. For now.

Ivan circled the bed, smiling innocently. "This bed has been empty since Lithuania left..." The Russian looked sad as he leaned over and ripped a few more feathers out. "I wonder if they will grow back...?" He stroked the base of one of the wings and gave it a light tug. "Let's find out, da?"

Arthur gasped, fear pooling in his stomach. "N-No! Don't you bloody dare, Ivan!"

Ivan only smiled wider. He positioned his large hands on each side of the wing, and prepared to pull.

* * *

Alfred found the house soon, and as he approached it, he gave it every insult he could think of. Ugly house. Ew. Disgusting. Fuck.

Yeah, he was running out.

But he stopped by the door. Knocking probably wouldn't help, he had a feeling. But the windows were too high up for him to try and climb, and he most likely would hurt himself if he did try to get up to them.

So he did knock, rapping on the door as loudly and obnoxiously as he could manage, so he could hear the echo back.

* * *

Ivan sighed and released Arthur, who nearly fainted with relief. He was safe, at least for a little while longer. Muttering curses, Ivan made his way down and threw the door open.

"Da?" His mood soured when he saw who it was, but he didn't let the change show on his face. "What do you want?"

"Where the fuck is he, fucker?!" Alfred stabbed a pointer finger into the Russian's chest.

"Where is who?" Ivan kept his smile the same, but pointedly removed the finger from his chest. "I don't know who you're looking for."

Alfred put the finger right back. "Don't fuck with me, dumbass. Where?"

Ivan looked confused. "I really don't know who you mean."

Alfred glared at him. "Stop it, you won't convince me."

"Amerika, if you don't tell me, then I can't help you. Go bother someone else." Ivan started closing the door.

Alfred slid his foot right in between the door and its frame, pushing it open forcefully with his knee. "England. What'd you do to England?"

"Angliya? Did he go missing?"

"...I will kill you. Where'd you put him?"

Ivan shrugged. "I don't have him."

"Ivan, we've been rivals since I came to the world and you became a pain in the ass. M'not stupid. Where?"

Arthur had recognized Alfred's loud voice by now. "AMERICA!" he yelled, but he wasn't sure the American would hear him. Ivan's house was very big.

Alfred frowned a bit when he heard a voice echo faintly through the house. He could barely hear it, but he was sure that he'd heard _something_. He glared at Ivan, waiting for an answer.

Ivan cocked his head, and for a second, his expression darkened. "One of my servants is calling for me. You need to leave." He forcefully pushed Alfred out and slammed the door shut.

"Fucking-" Alfred regained his balance and drove his shoulder into the door. "You fuck! Let me in, or I'll get in!"

Ivan didn't respond, being already halfway to the room. He glared at Arthur when he entered. "You should not have called out." he growled, and ripped yet more feathers out.

Alfred took little time in taking down the door. He'd seen enough movies and practiced enough to know how to roundhouse kick the lock. But unlike in the movies, the lock didn't move, and he had to rub the side of his shoe, cursing under his breath as the pain started to beat through it.

Finally, he used his strength to simply break through. "ENGLAND?!"

Ivan leaned in close to his prisoner. "Don't say a word, da?" he whispered into Arthur's ear.

The Brit whimpered and thrashed around a bit, but there wasn't much else he could do, and he stayed silent.

"Fuck." Alfred guessed second floor immediately, and he cautiously opened every door he came across, briefly glancing in before moving on. "Art! Please tell me you're okay?! Art!"

Arthur finally couldn't take it. "ALFRED!"

Ivan slapped him harshly, cursing. He tossed a heavy blanket over the angel and sat on the bed, pipe at the ready. He waited.

Alfred immediately went after the sound, heart pounding. He growled again when he saw Ivan sitting on the bed. "You mother fucker."

Ivan smiled, leaning back and propping himself up on his arm. His arm, which was conveniently covering up Arthur's mouth, preventing him from making a sound. "Privyet, Amerika. It's rude to barge into someone's house uninvited, no?"

"Fuck you. Where is he?!"

"Where is who?" Ivan asked, increasing the pressure on his arm as Arthur started to thrash around again.

"Art?!" Alfred saw the blanket moving around a bit, but he was frozen in his spot, not wanting Ivan to hurt him. "Let him go."

"But he's so interesting..." Ivan picked up a feather and twirled it between his fingers. "I'm surprised you haven't experimented on him yet. You have so many scientists in your nation..."

Arthur stilled beneath the blanket, both from lack of oxygen and the words.

Alfred's eyes widened a bit, and he gritted his teeth harshly, fingers curling into fists. "Get the fuck off him. Don't touch those." He swallowed as he realized there were more than a few feathers lying around, all of them bloodied like the one he had in his pocket.

"Or you will do what?" Ivan's eyes glinted with a challenge.

Alfred growled deeply. "I'll kill you, get off now."

Ivan bounced a bit on the bed. His childish smile was back now. "I quite like it here. My house, my rules."

"Don't fuck with me, Ivan. Go fuck yourself."

"I'd much rather play with Angliya." The smile turned sinister, and Ivan pulled the blanket down just enough for him to run a hand through Arthur's hair. Oh, yes, he was having fun now.

Alfred gritted his teeth more, nails digging into his palms. "Don't touch him. Get away from him."

Ivan patted the hair down. "I don't think so." He, very carefully, extended one of the wings and plucked a single feather, his eyes on Alfred the whole time.

Arthur whimpered uncontrollably again.

Alfred did his best to keep calm and glare at the Russian, but Arthur's whimper shot right through his shield of self-restraint. "Get the fuck away from him, last chance."

Ivan tilted his head. "Or you'll do what?" He wiped the blood off the feather and smeared it onto Arthur's cheek.

Alfred couldn't take it anymore. He strode over to him and grabbed a handful of his coat, heaving him up off the bed and forcing his back against a wall. "Don't fucking touch him, I said."

Ivan pressed back. "I didn't listen." He swung his pipe around and slammed it into Alfred's ribs.

"No sh- fuck!" Alfred winced, but tightened his grip on Ivan's coat. He grabbed onto the pipe with his free hand and forced it away.

"You left him once, long ago." Ivan said quietly, his voice full of innocence. "It would be very easy to leave him again..." He twisted the pipe out of Alfred's grip and drove it into his stomach.

Alfred puffed his cheeks out slightly, and swallowed with a hard glare. He was thinking of a response when his hand got burned and he grunted, letting go of Ivan so he could focus on getting the pipe away.

Ivan looped the end of his scarf around Alfred's neck and pulled it tight.

"Ack!" Alfred choked, grabbing the scarf and trying to pull it off, managing to land a hard kick to Ivan's stomach.

The Russian doubled over from the kick, but in the process was able to tighten the scarf even more.

Alfred choked again, his knees starting to go weak. He struggled to pull the scarf away, but didn't have much luck.

"Leave him, Amerika." Ivan managed to choke out, his breathing still labored because of the kick. "Just walk away."

"N...N-No." Alfred managed to breathe back. He was finally able to move the scarf away from his neck, just long enough to take a deep breath and quickly utter more words. "A-Arthur, are you okay?"

Ivan violently jerked the scarf tighter.

Arthur watched the scene with wide eyes, but couldn't to anything because of the restraints. "A-Alfred... Ivan, stop this!"

The Russian jerked the scarf again. "Nyet."

Alfred fell to his knees, his fingers loosing some circulations as he still tried loosening the scarf around his neck. His face lost some color, his eyes going wide. He never stopped trying to pry the scarf away, though his efforts were greatly weakened.

"Ivan, let him go! Do whatever the bloody hell you want to me, but leave him the hell alone!" Arthur shouted, his eyes hard.

Ivan abruptly undid the scarf and pushed Alfred away, watching the American fall to the floor. He fixed the scarf around his own neck. He turned and walked to the bed, the smile back on his face. "I knew you would see things my way eventually, Angliya."

Alfred shook a bit on the ground, coughing and almost wheezing. But once his sight wasn't fuzzy anymore, he put a shaky arm on the ground and did his best to get himself up. "Don't." he choked out.

Ivan turned to look at him contemptuously. "There is nothing you can do about it." He ran the tip of the pipe down Arthur's cheek.

Arthur trembled and his eyes darted to Alfred, pleading him for help. 'Hit him when he's focused on me.' Those green eyes seemed to say. He hoped Alfred got the message.

But Alfred's eyes were more on Ivan, watching him closely. He looked to his pipe for just one second, and then tackled him. As Ivan fell to the ground, he kicked the pipe away and straddled him to keep his arms down. He breathed heavily, glaring harshly down at him. "I fuckin' can."

Ivan mockingly laughed at him. "Forever the hero, eh Amerika?"

Alfred grinned a bit, surprised at his laugh. "Fer' ever. An' it's _America_. Gotta say it more free-like."

"There is no freedom in your country anymore." Ivan shot back. "All your precious democratic government wants is money."

"Yeah, yeah, go fuck yourself with your communist shit." Alfred grabbed the pipe and slammed it against Ivan's head, effectively knocking him out. "Art?"

Arthur exhaled slowly with relief once Ivan was out of it. "Are you alright?" he asked worriedly.

Alfred got up slowly, mainly because he was still weak. He immediately hugged Arthur as tightly as he could manage, burying his face in the Brit's shoulder. "Are you okay?" he asked hoarsely.

"Nevermind me, what about you?" Arthur couldn't twist his neck around far enough to see him, so he settled on resting his cheek on the pillow.

"M'fine." Alfred muttered as softly as he could. His voice would have been strained if any higher. He reached out and slowly worked to undo Arthur's restraints, fingers fumbling with the tightly tied rope.

Arthur winced. "Careful, careful..." he murmured.

"Sorry." Alfred said softly, and finally got one wrist free, before moving on to the other.

Arthur brought the arm to his side, groaning softly as the blood rushed back into it. "Thank you..." he said quietly.

"Don't thank me Artie. M'sorry." He got Arthur's ankles free a few moments later.

"What are you sorry for?"

"Not coming sooner."

"Idiot. Thank you for coming at all." Arthur paused. "But err...if you could get off me? You're crushing my wing."

"Oi, sorry." Alfred pulled off him, throwing the rope onto Ivan. He winced slightly at the movement, and lightly held his neck.

"Oh, Alfred." Arthur twisted around and ever so gently caressed the American's neck, his eyes creased with worry. "What did he do to you?"

Alfred shook his head. "M'fine, nothing. Are you okay?" He ignored the marks on his neck, and probably bruises on his stomach.

Arthur glared at him for a moment before concentrating. His fingertips lit up with a soft white glow, and the marks around Alfred's neck disappeared, as did his other injuries. "The good thing about this body is that my magic is stronger." he said, smiling and shaking out his bloodied wings.

Alfred blinked and reached up with this hand to check if the marks really were gone. "What? Why'd you do that?"

"That's a stupid question. You were hurt, so I healed you."

"That was stupid. Change it back."

"Idiot. I can't, it's already done." Arthur shrugged. "I don't see the problem- you're not in pain anymore."

"S'not very heroic ta go off the easy way like that...You should heal yourself, Art."

Arthur smiled sadly. "It doesn't work on me. I can only heal others."

"N-No way! At all? What if...channel it to me!"

"No, not at all. That's just how the Angel works. Always giving, never taking for himself." Arthur paused. "How would channeling it through you work?"

"Like...switch it out! Saw it in movies n' stuff. You just take energy from me to help yourself a bit, and gimme your pain."

"Just because you saw it in movies doesn't mean it will work." Arthur shook his head. "No. I refuse to do that. It wouldn't work anyway."

"Try it. Please."

"No. I just took your pain away, I won't give it right back to you. Let's just get out of here. He might wake up soon."

"Please, Artie. Please." Alfred gave him a wide-eyed look.

Arthur averted his gaze. "N-No, Alfred. I refuse. I'll be fine, don't worry about me."

Alfred was confident is mind wasn't going to change. "Please."

"A-Alfred, don't make me do this. It won't work, and I don't know what will happen."

"Please."

Arthur sighed and pressed his hands to Alfred's shoulders. He send the energy violently onto the other person, and with no surprise, it backfired. Arthur winced as he was pushed back, his palms stinging.

Alfred blinked, feeling something for a split second. "...Ow. You needa concentrate and not be so mean!"

"I was concentrating, and that was not mean."

"...Are you sure, Art? Please."

"I'm sure. It won't work."

"...S'there nothing else?"

"No. Just leave it, Alfred. Let's get out of here."

"Art, please, there has to be something."

"_Leave it_, Alfred." Arthur said forcefully.

"Arthur! Please! It's important to me!"

"Why?!"

"It's important!"

"No. It doesn't work that way, I told you before. I can only take others' pain and suffering into myself, I can't give mine away." Arthur stood and made his way to the door. "Are you coming?"

"Art come on, magic, there has to be something!" Alfred got up and followed, but winced as he stepped on a few of the bloody feathers. "...Um...wait for me by the front door?"

Arthur gave him a curious glance, but nodded. "Along the way, if you could find something for me to cover myself with..." He gestured to the toga and exposed wings before leaving.

Alfred nodded, not moving from his spot for a moment, long enough for him to be sure that Arthur was gone.

He proceeded to tie Ivan up and drag him into the closet, locking him in there. That's what he got, ha! He then turned back to the bed. The feathers were everywhere, and all of them were bloody. He swallowed and tried not to think what the Russian had done to Arthur. He knelt down and gently picked up all of them into a nice collection.

Arthur slowly walked to the door, trying to ignore the pain in his wings. He glanced behind him and noticed he was leaving a blood trail. Probably from all those ripped feathers. He felt bad for Ivan's maid, but since it was his own blood, he couldn't do anything about it. He finally got to the front door and waited patiently for Alfred, occasionally looking around to see if anyone else was there.

Once he'd picked up all of the feathers, Alfred left the room. He swallowed again, feeling more horrible for Arthur. Right before he joined the Brit at the door, finding his way courtesy of the blood trail, he opened a closet and took out a cloak. "...Here."

Arthur took it and put it on, pulling it tight to cover everything. "This will look odd..." he muttered. "What were you doing in there?"

"I just..." Alfred lowered his arms a little bit, to show all the feathers he held.

Arthur smiled sadly at them. "Thank you... While I appreciate you collecting them all, you should have left them." he said gently. But it meant a lot to him that Alfred had picked them all up. It really did.

Alfred shook his head. "I'm...not letting him have the pleasure of keeping them." He seemed to hug the feathers a bit more to himself. "Art, before we go..."

Arthur really didn't know what to say to the first statement. He'd already said 'thank you'... "What is it?" he asked instead.

"...What happened?"

"What happened when?"

"...When I wasn't there. How'd he get you?"

"He...He came a few minutes after you'd left. He saw me, Alfred. He saw when I was flying. Thought I'd make a nice new toy." Arthur swallowed and looked down. "So he came. There's not much I can do against him. He brought me here, tied me up in Lithuania's old bed, and plucked the feathers out." He wasn't sure if he should continue, but he forced himself to. "He- He was going to rip the whole wing out, but then you knocked..."

Alfred put the feathers in any pocket he could manage so he could wrap his arms around Arthur, cautious of his wings, and hug him tightly.

Arthur was surprised, but he didn't pull away. After a moment, he slowly put his arms around Alfred's waist in return. "A-Alfred? What's this for?" he questioned.

Alfred shook slightly and he swallowed, trying to keep his voice straight. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

Arthur hugged him a bit tighter, feeling his shaking. "Shh, shh, it's not your fault. It's okay, nothing serious happened. I'm fine. Shh..."

Alfred shook more, and he gripped him a bit tighter. He would have liked to hold him even tighter, but though his injuries were gone, he was still weak. "H-He hurt you!"

"You didn't know, Alfred. You saved me from the worst of it." Arthur said, patting Alfred's back lightly.

As more of his strength returned, Alfred was able to grip Arthur tighter yet again, and he buried his eyes in the crook of the Brit's neck. "Does it hurt?"

Arthur hesitated. "A little bit. But nothing I can't live with." he said quickly. "Please, Alfred, it's alright, it really is."

"...How...how long has he hurt you? Before I came?"

Arthur glanced at a clock nearby on the wall. "He had me tied up for about forty-five minutes." He lightly nuzzled against Alfred, and his own arms tightened around the American's waist.

"Oh my god...!"

"It wasn't that bad. For the first few minutes, he just started at me."

Alfred growled softly and hugged him to himself more. "And then...he pulled...them out?"

Arthur was surprised again at the strength of the hug, but he still didn't push away. "Yes. And then he...he ripped them out."

Alfred swallowed again. "Let's...let's go to your house, Art."

"You have to let go first, love." Arthur let his arms drop to his sides.

Alfred blushed and still hesitated for a few seconds, before slowly letting go.

"Thank you." Pulling the cloak still tighter around himself, Arthur carefully opened the door.

Alfred took Arthur's hand and held it as he walked out with him, not giving a shit about leaving the door wide open.

Arthur glanced at their linked hands, but didn't say anything about it. He squeezed lightly and sidestepped closer to Alfred, feeling safer the closer he was to him. He glanced around nervously at the people the passed, half-expecting to be taken again at any moment.

Alfred squeezed back lightly, and anyone who looked at Arthur for too long he'd fix with a horrible death glare, forcing them to turn away and quicken their step. The second they got home, he locked the surprisingly intact front door.

As soon as he stepped into the house, Arthur felt a little bit better. He tugged lightly on their hands, waiting for Alfred to let go.

Alfred still wouldn't, not until the door was locked for sure. He then let go and started locking all the windows on the ground floor, making one hundred percent sure they were secure. He finally pulled all the blinds down.

"Alfred, I must insist this is all completely unnecessary." Arthur protested lightly, but watched him with some amusement.

"No I...no." Alfred was still a bit pale, and he didn't stop, even moving a book case in front of the door. The dark outside showing through the glass was creepy as fuck.

"The bookshelf? Really? Alfred, we're fine." Arthur moved towards him and touched him lightly on the shoulder. "It's alright now, we're fine."

"No, Art!" Alfred glanced back at him with wide eyes, before shaking it off. He hesitated again, glancing at the book case and keeping his eyes on it. "Are you hungry?" he asked softly.

"Alfred, you're being paranoid." Arthur replied, just as softly. The amusement had left him. "It's honestly starting to scare me..."

"Are ya hungry?"

"No. If...If you're up to it, can you do me one favour?"

"Yeah?"

"Could-" Arthur paused and looked up, searching Alfred's face for a moment. "Could you wash off my wings? With warm water? It'll help the feathers grow back if the...blood is gone."

Alfred nodded immediately. "I...I was gonna bandage them if you weren't hungry...I'll bandage them after, okay?"

"Yes, that's fine." Arthur walked quickly to the bathroom and settled down on the toilet in a way that would leave Alfred easy access to the wings. He stared at the tiled wall before him and concentrated on his breathing.

Alfred followed and knelt down by the bathtub, turning the faucet on. He waved a hand through the stream of water and kept moving the knob around to get the perfect definition of warm.

Arthur let out a sigh and waited, listening to the faint splashes behind him. "It doesn't have to be perfect, you know. Any warm will do."

Alfred ignored him, and when it was finally perfect, he got up to take a towel. But he decided against it, thinking that the towel would probably hurt. So he knelt down again and got his own hand wet before gently reaching out to touch Arthur's right wing.

Out of instinct, Arthur recoiled the wing as soon as Alfred had touched it. "S-Sorry." Taking a deep breath, he extended it back to how it was before.

The moment Arthur moved, Alfred pulled his hand back to himself, and then he hesitated. He didn't want to hurt him, or even have Arthur think that he was getting hurt. So he put his right hand to Arthur's and gently held it. "Can I?"

Arthur glanced back at him over his shoulder. His eyes were slightly guarded, but he nodded. "Yes."

Alfred reached out and very softly stroked Arthur's wing, his fingers ghosting over the feathers, just so Arthur could get used to it.

Arthur stiffened slightly, but then reminded himself that this was Alfred, not Ivan, and he leaned into the touch.

Alfred smiled when Arthur leaned a bit closer, and upon getting more warm water onto his hands, he gently reached out to pull a thumb across the soft line of blood on the Brit's cheek.

Arthur blushed and looked away, moving his face out of reach. "Alfred, the wings."

Alfred blushed too, and he lowered his hand slowly. "I just...the bl..." He went silent and swallowed again, before quietly starting to wash the wings out.

Arthur raised a hand to his face, and it came away red. "I see. I can get that myself though." He rubbed the blood off with his arm, but he had no mirror so he didn't see that he missed a spot up high on his cheekbone.

Alfred glanced up throughout his washing, and after a few moments couldn't help but reach up to brush away the remainder of the blood.

"T-Thank you." Arthur murmured, ducking his head quickly.

Alfred rapidly pulled his hand away. "Sorry."

"Don't apologize. You did nothing wrong." Arthur said automatically.

Alfred didn't reply, once again silently washing the remainder of the blood away. The silence stretched out between them.

"...Are you done?" Arthur asked a while later, finally breaking it.

"Yeah...I'm just gonna dry them off, okay?"

"Alright. Carefully, though."

"...I wouldn't do anything else." Alfred muttered softly as he picked up the towel and brushed it against the soaked wings.

The feathers fluffed up immediately once they were dry, much like a little chick's would. Arthur caught sight of them and groaned, burying his face in his hands.

A smile broke out across Alfred's face and he laughed softly before leaning in to nuzzle his cheek against them. "Wow, they're so soft!"

"They're so bloody...fluffy." Arthur muttered, his cheeks turning scarlet at the nuzzling.

Alfred smiled wider and breathed out softly, the wings feeling sooooo nice. "Fluffffffy and niceeeee."

Arthur shuddered as the breath tickled him. "I-If you're quite done molesting my wings..."

"O-Oi, I'm not!" Alfred blushed a bit, but still kept his cheek against them.

"Of course you're not. What was I thinking?" Arthur asked. "Because that isn't strange at all."

Alfred huffed. "They're nice, Arthur."

"They're been a damn nuisance the whole day. But...I suppose they are a bit pretty."

"Really nice and pretty."

Arthur flapped them slightly, disturbing Alfred a bit. "Alright, alright. Enough with the wing-rape. You were going to bandage them?"

Alfred blinked and moved back from them, still blushing. "...Alright, fucking _sorry_." He sighed to himself and got up to grab some bandages and a little bottle from the mirror. He then came back to his previous spot and knelt down next to him.

Arthur lowered his head. He had meant the words lightly, but apparently Alfred thought differently. The wings drooped and fell listlessly to the ground. He started at the floor and waited for him to start the bandaging.

Alfred did and gently put some gauze on the worst spots he found before wrapping them up. Once he was done, the wings had a few spots that were bandaged up, but other than that, the feathers were still free. "There."

"Thank you." Arthur said quietly, not moving.

Alfred sat back on his heels and took a deep breath. That had taken a bit of work. "Art...you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine." Arthur stood up and quickly left the bathroom, muttering another quick 'thank you' on his way out.

Alfred frowned softly and reached out after him, but he was gone by then. He slowly lowered the hand back to his lap. Well, great. He sighed and washed his hands in the water, which had now turned cold, before turning it off entirely.

Arthur settled down on the couch, careful to keep his back as steady as possible. He put a blanket over his legs and waited.

Alfred got up and washed his hands again in the warm water of the sink, and hesitated before washing his face as well. He then trailed to the living room, where he found the Brit. "Arthur?"

Arthur fixed the blanket around him and glanced up. "Yes?"

"...Shouldn't you go to sleep like...in the bedroom?"

"I'm not that tired yet." Arthur replied, shrugging.

"...Are you sure? It was a long day."

"I wouldn't be able to fall asleep now anyway."

"Why?"

"Would you be able to sleep after that?" Arthur let out an involuntary shudder. It was really dark out now, and the book case blocking the door suddenly didn't seem like such a bad idea anymore.

Alfred looked down a bit. "...No...but...I'm here, you know?"

Arthur shifted uncomfortably on the couch. "Will you...Can you sleep with me, then?" he finally asked. "Just for tonight." he added quickly. "Just because...you know...Ivan."

Alfred blinked at him, and then nodded. "Yeah. Course I will."

Arthur nodded shortly back at him, still strung up pretty high. He got up and padded up to his room. He paused when he saw the bed, but steeled himself and gingerly lay down on it.

Alfred went around and made sure the window was locked and the blinds were down, before locking the bedroom door. He got into bed next to Arthur and didn't hesitate to scoot over to him and wrap his arms around him. He pulled him closer so he could protectively lean over him a bit and rest his chin on the top of his head.

Arthur twisted around in his arms so he was facing him, his wings spread out over the bed behind him. He used Alfred's upper arm as a pillow and slowly started to relax.

Alfred breathed softly and kept him close to his chest. "Art?"

"Yes? What is it?"

"Are you scared?" he asked quietly.

"Not as much now." Arthur admitted. "Not when you're here..."

Alfred smiled. "Good, and don't be...hero's here for you!"

Arthur nuzzled to his chest. "My hero..." he whispered, so quietly that it was barely heard.

Alfred smiled at him. He'd heard it, but he closed his eyes and pretended that he hadn't. "G'night."

"Good night, Alfred." Arthur closed his eyes as well, but he was still tense, so he couldn't fall asleep for a long time.

Alfred refused to fall asleep until Arthur did, so he easily noticed that Arthur wasn't really falling asleep. So he tucked them both in, pushing the covers closer and more comfortably to the smaller man. He gently rubbed circles into his back to loosen him up and breathed in a soft, normal rhythm to get him to hopefully feel better.

Arthur started at all the sudden movement, and he clutched Alfred tighter for a moment. But the moment passed and he slowly found himself relaxing. His mind slowly slowed and sleep took him a few minutes later. His mouth opened a bit and light snores filled the room.

Alfred smiled when he heard Arthur sleeping, and he thanked the gods since he had been falling asleep himself. With a cat-like yawn he fell asleep, nose buried in Arthur's hair.

Arthur woke the next morning, and found them to be in mostly the same position they'd fallen asleep in. Alfred was still sleeping, so he closed his eyes again and said nothing.

When Alfred woke up, the first thing he did was tighten his arms around Arthur and look around. Once he was sure they were safe, and in the same place as before, he let out a soft sigh. Fuck, yesterday had been a long day. He yawned quietly, mainly into Arthur's hair on accident, and snuggled closer to him with a soft smile.

Arthur blinked and glanced up at him, but he was surprisingly content to stay in this particular position.

Alfred sighed softly again and mumbled some communist insults at Ivan, somehow managing to snuggle closer still to Arthur.

Arthur chuckled ever so quietly and moved his head to the pillow. He let out a long, quiet breath and started slipping away into the realm of sleep again.

Alfred blinked down at him and blushed horribly, but he didn't really move. "Art?" he asked softly.

"Mhm?" Arthur asked sleepily, his eyes fluttering open.

"Oh...y-you're awake?"

"Well, I was about to not be awake..." Arthur shrugged and snuggled deeper into the pillow, his eyes sliding shut.

"Oh, sorry."

"It's fine. Don't apologize." He promptly fell asleep again.

Alfred blinked, poking Arthur in the nose. Wow, he really was asleep. Alfred sighed. If he tried to move, Arthur would probably wake up. So with no problem in the slightest, he closed his own eyes and sighed gently, relaxing.

Arthur woke again in about fifteen minutes and looked up. He wriggled slightly in Alfred's grip, and waited to see if there was going to be any response.

"Artie? Awake again?"

"Yes. I am a bit...hungry now..." Arthur said cautiously.

"...Aww."

"What?"

"I..." Alfred blushed softly. "I like it like this..."

"Oh." Arthur's cheeks heated up quite spectacularly. "W-Well...I-I don't really...mind this either... It's quite nice...and warm..."

Alfred was more than surprised, and he was glad his face was hidden in Arthur's hair. "...Erm...wow, um...awesome!...I mean...well...cool."

Arthur chuckled nervously. "I don't suppose you...err...want to move, do you?"

"...No...not really...do you want me to?"

"No...not necessarily..." Arthur could practically feel the heat radiating off his face, and briefly wondered if Alfred could feel it too.

"Oh...wanna...um, hang like this then?"

Arthur cleared his throat and blinked rapidly. "Y-Yes, I think that would be splendid." His stomach's needs were pushed far down in favour of this current moment.

"...Cool."

Not really knowing what else to do now, Arthur patted Alfred lightly on the shoulder.

Alfred blinked, before snickering quietly and nuzzling his nose against Arthur's hair.

"Sh-Shut up, you're just as awkward." Arthur muttered, pushing his head lightly against it.

Alfred blinked again and smiled, pushing back gently. "No I'm nooot."

Arthur pushed a bit harder. "Yes you are, don't deny it." He tilted his head back a bit and glanced up into Alfred's eyes.

Alfred grinned at him, and suddenly pressed his nose to Arthur's forehead. "Nope!"

Arthur leaned back more and brought his hand up to poke the other's nose. "Yes!"

"Nuh uh!" Alfred grinned and shook his head.

Arthur poked him again, harder and on the cheek this time. "Yes, you are."

"Nope~!"

Arthur sighed. "You're hopeless to argue with..." he murmured, and ducked his head again, returning to their previous position.

Alfred smiled and leaned down to nuzzle against Arthur's hair again. "Uh huh, 'cause I'm a hero and I always win!"

"No, because you're stubborn and annoying. That's the only reason you win." Arthur muttered, but there was no bite in his voice. He nuzzled Alfred's chest back.

Alfred huffed. "Not true, that's you!" He smiled down at him, and at the warm feeling in his chest.

"Gentlemen aren't annoying." Arthur stated factually. He stretched his leg under the covers, and his foot accidentally rubbed against Alfred's.

Alfred snickered, but blushed horribly when he felt the touch. "U-Um, yeah they are!"

"S-Sorry..." Arthur's own face grew hot again, and his heart leapt. "They are not..."

"No, no prob...and yeah, probs not...'cept for you."

Arthur hit his shoulder lightly. "Shut up, I am not!"

Alfred grinned. "Are too!"

"Am not!" Arthur slid down a bit, so that Alfred's face was no longer in his hair, and turned slightly away from him.

"Oi!" Alfred slid down with him, to put his nose back into his hair.

Arthur tilted his head up, so they were nose to nose. "What?"

Alfred blinked, and his cheeks heated up some more. "...Err...don't move any more!"

"Why not?" Arthur stared back at him.

"Cuz it feels nice now..."

Arthur smiled slightly at him, despite his own blush. "Alright..."

"...So...don't move!"

"I didn't move, I smiled..."

Alfred smiled gently back. "And...don't move!"

"I'm not moving, Alfred." Arthur held perfectly still, staring deep into those blue, blue eyes.

Alfred grinned at him again, his expression a bit softer now. "I know."

"So...Are we just going to stay like this now?"

"...Unless you don't wanna?"

"No," Arthur lowered his gaze to Alfred's shoulder. "This is fine."

Alfred smiled gently and closed his eyes with a nod. "Okay...thanks..."

Arthur smiled, slightly sadly. "Of course." After a moment, though, he suddenly pulled back. "Actually, n-no." He got up completely, sliding out of the bed. His expression was unreadable. "Alfred, this, _this_ right here, it cannot go on. When you know what you want from us-" Damn. It slipped out. He hurriedly fixed it. "From me. When you know exactly what you want from me, come and find me. Until then, just stop..." He left the room before the American could say anything to him in response.

He'd always loved Alfred. There was no doubt about that. But the type of love, now that had changed, matured. Deepened. Because of the Revolutionary War, the World Wars, even their 'Special Relationship' time, as Churchill had dubbed it. But now he felt that Alfred was sending him mixed signals. If his love was unrequited, he could take that blow and move on. But he refused to let himself look like an idiot, so he left. He unlocked the door and went down to the kitchen to prepare himself some tea, pulling on a robe as he walked.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N**: Last Chapter! Enjoy~

* * *

Alfred stared after him, dumbfounded. He had no idea what just happened but it hurt to think Arthur didn't want to go near him, though at the same time he really didn't know what was happening. So he stayed there, trying to collect his thoughts. "...Arthur?"

Arthur didn't hear him, being in the kitchen. He was breathing quickly and his hands were shaking as he poured the tea. It had been nice, laying there with Alfred. Really nice. He hadn't wanted to ever leave the other nation's arms. And that seriously scared him. He'd been hurt far too many times in his life, and now he didn't want to charge into anything blindly only to be hurt again.

He unlocked and cracked open one of the windows, and then sat down by the table, tea on hand. He hoped Alfred would come down soon, to say anything. But he didn't call up to him or anything. The American would come on his own time.

Alfred took a long, long time to go down.

The hero got kinda scared.

Not that he'd admit it.

But he finally got his courage up and slowly climbed down the stairs to hover a bit in the doorway to the kitchen. He said nothing and watched Arthur carefully.

Arthur unseeingly watched the cup of tea before him. The halo, which had apparently been locked out somewhere when Ivan came, had zoomed to its rightful place above his head. It pulsed brightly, almost as if it were very glad to be back where it was supposed to be.

"At least you'll always be here..." he told it softly.

His wings drooped listlessly to the floor, and he ducked his head. It had been so long since he'd left the bedroom...Alfred probably wasn't going to come.

"...Um..." Alfred finally said softly, and he wasn't sure if Arthur had even heard him. He nervously swallowed, and took a small step into the kitchen. "U-Um...hey?" he tried again, a little bit louder.

Arthur whirled around, almost falling out of the chair. "O-Oh...Alfred. Err...hello." he said nervously.

"...This is awkward..." Alfred muttered, rubbing the back of his head a bit. "So, um..."

"Do you have an answer for me?"

"Can ya repeat the question?" Alfred squeaked quietly, keeping his gaze to Arthur's feet.

"...When you know what you want from me- and from us, come and find me. Until then, just stop." Arthur repeated, his voice sounding almost mechanical.

Alfred nodded shakily. "...Right."

"If you do not have an answer to that, please remove yourself from this particular room." Arthur said slowly, but his voice shook a bit.

"No I...well... What do you want?"

"I want-" Arthur stopped himself. He'd nearly said 'I want _you_', but he didn't want to scare Alfred off or anything. "It's up to you." he said instead.

"It's not up to me what _you_ want. What do you want, Art?"

Arthur looked down at the floor, and just said what was running through his mind. "I want you." His voice was quiet.

Alfred wasn't sure if he was surprised- not really, he expected it of course. He swallowed nervously and smiled the very softest bit. "...Why?"

"Because I-I love you. I always have, and I always will." Arthur couldn't look up at him.

"...That's...That's real sweet." Alfred wanted to smack himself for saying something so stupidly cheesy. But he swallowed instead, cheeks burning. "U-Um, but for real, um...yeah. Me too." he said softly.

Arthur finally raised his head, and he stared up at him, eyes wide. His wings perked up a bit, with just the barest hint of hope. "Really?"

Alfred's knees were weak, and he gently nodded his head, a small smile on his lips. "...Yeah."

"Well." Arthur slowly stood. "Now that that's settled, what are you going to do now?"

"...What?"

Arthur sighed. Throwing all inhibitions aside, he walked over to Alfred and leaned up to kiss him.

Alfred blinked, his eyes going wide for a moment. But seconds later he relaxed and started to press his lips back, slowly and lightly putting his hands around Arthur's thin shoulders.

Arthur wrapped his arms around Alfred's waist in return. When he finally broke the kiss for air, he leaned his forehead against the American's shoulder, not breaking the hug.

Alfred smiled gently, moving his lips to the crook of Arthur's neck and simultaneously tightening his grip a bit. "...I love you."

"I love you too." Arthur whispered back, his voice a bit hoarse. "So much." He was silent for a few moments. "Do you want to go back to bed and...and cuddle some more?" he asked hesitantly.

Alfred's smile grew as he chuckled. "Ya wanna?"

"Very much so." Arthur admitted, his hunger forgotten.

"Can I carry you?"

"If you want to, yes, t-that would be nice..." Arthur managed to get out, blushing heavily.

Alfred didn't need another word of permission to pick him up bridal style and, careful of his wings, carry him up to the bedroom.

"Wait, Alfred." Arthur said once they got upstairs. "Do me a favour?"

"Anything."

"Lock my halo in the closet. It'll just get in the way."

"Where the- oh. Isn't it like gonna electrocute me or somethin'?"

"No, of course not. It's not electric. But if we leave it out, it will float around and be annoying."

Alfred hesitantly grabbed the floating circle, and once he placed Arthur on the bed, he went over to throw it in the closet.

Arthur meanwhile had crawled under the covers and watched him, waiting for him to come into the bed with him.

Once the door to the closet was closed and locked, Alfred went over to him, carefully climbing in next to him. "Hey."

"Hello, love." Arthur moved right up against him and kissed his collarbone.

Alfred shuddered a bit with a smile. "Hey."

"Mmm..." Arthur curled up into Alfred's chest, so that they were face-to-face. "Hold me..." he whispered, extremely quietly.

Alfred was already halfway through wrapping his arms around the Brit. "Aren't you demanding?"

"That wasn't a demand. More of a suggestion, really." Arthur replied. "Careful of the wings."

"I know, I know. Are they gonna stay like that?"

"Forever, you mean?"

"I dunno. Overall."

"I do have one idea on how to get rid of them, but I don't know whether it will work."

"...Yes?"

"Get drunk. Call the Angel. Hopefully when he leaves again, the wings'll go away as well. I was in the process of doing this when...Ivan came." Arthur shuddered and shook a bit at the memories of that particular situation.

Alfred tightened his grip on him again. "Ah...well...if you _want_ to try that, I guess."

"I have to. I can't stay as an angel for the rest of my life." A faint thumping noise came from the closet. "Stupid halo." Arthur growled softly.

Alfred snickered. "That's kinda creepy." he muttered, glancing back.

Arthur shrugged. "It's got a very specific place above my head. Can you blame it for wanting to go back to that place?"

"...Yeah. Its creepy. Sounds like a murderer's trying to get to us."

"Or a ghost." Arthur said, raising an eyebrow. "I did feel a strange presence last time I went in there..."

Alfred froze and went a bit pale. "W-What?!"

"Yes, and I heard some moaning and creaking. I believe there was a cold spot in the back corner as well."

"S-Stop it Art, dammit!"

"And it almost seemed as if someone was watching me..."

"Stop it! A-Artie, that's _not_ fair, stop it!"

"What's not fair, love?" Arthur asked, staring innocently up at him.

"...You can be a bastard sometimes." Alfred muttered, burying his face into Arthur's neck.

Arthur stroked his back and kissed his neck repeatedly. "Why, thank you." he said in between kisses.

Alfred shuddered a bit at each kiss, trying to glare into Arthur's skin, something that really wasn't working out.

"I know you'll protect me from all the ghosts, though." Arthur murmured soothingly to him, the barest hint of sarcasm in his words.

Alfred nodded softly. "Y-Y-Yeah I will...!" His voice was slurred, of course, being against Arthur's neck, but he said the words and that's what counted.

Arthur chuckled. He tilted Alfred's head up and kissed him firmly on the lips. Almost immediately, he forced the American's mouth open and drove his tongue inside, seeking dominance.

"M'g fuck." Alfred managed to mumble against his lips, the barest moan coming from him. He opened his mouth some more, enough for him to start forcing Arthur's tongue back.

Arthur let out a low growl and rolled on top of him to get better leverage. He forced Alfred's tongue back down and continued to explore his mouth.

Alfred's eyebrows knot together in concentration and he smirked a bit. His hands went up to Arthur's shoulders and he pushed the smaller male away a bit, which gave him the opportunity to start pushing the invading tongue away again.

"Bloody- wanker-" Arthur muttered against his lips. He bit down on Alfred's lower lip to distract him, and then pressed forward again.

Alfred cursed, his mouth opening a little more yet again because of him. "Damned fuck."

"Are you sure you want to?" Arthur asked, smirking, before driving farther into his mouth.

Alfred felt a bit hot and he blushed lightly, trying to shift out from under him so he could breathe. "Oh, Shaddup." he breathed, moving his tongue around Arthur's to hopefully loosen it and push him back.

"Oh no you don't." Arthur growled, twirling his tongue around Alfred's effectively blocking him. He ran his hands through Alfred's hair.

Alfred cursed again, and lowered his hands to Arthur's waist. He let the Brit hear a soft moan, hoping to distract him with both actions.

Arthur went weak at that, and he let out a low moan in response. "Fucking- don't bloody _do_ that." he gasped out. But he still did his best to keep dominance.

Alfred smirked and started forcing Arthur's tongue back. "Problem?"

Arthur held on for a few more seconds, but finally he pulled out of Alfred's mouth entirely, gasping as he collapsed onto the American's chest. "No, of course not."

Alfred smirked at him, panting slightly himself. "I won."

"You did not."

"Ohohoh, I did."

"You didn't dominate." Arthur said with a smirk.

"I did in the end, and that counts."

"No you didn't. I broke the kiss."

"Cause you gave up."

"That's not the same as dominating."

"I let you do that."

"Of course you did." Arthur said sarcastically. He suddenly crashed their lips together again.

"Fuck yes I- mmm..." Alfred's eyes went shut as he kissed back gently.

Arthur pulled back again after a moment, and then pressed their foreheads together. "I'd let you straddle me, but I don't want you to crush my wings." he murmured, staring deep into Alfred's blue eyes, a light blush on his cheeks.

Alfred blinked, before chuckling. "'Course. I wouldn't want to hurt you of course."

Arthur smiled softly. "Of course." He pressed a light kiss to Alfred's nose, his lips barely brushing the other's skin.

Alfred giggled, his nose scrunching up a bit. "Oi, ticklish. Now cuddle like you're supposed to."

"Like _I'm_ supposed to? And what about you?" Arthur asked, but wrapped his arms tightly around Alfred's neck and nuzzled to him.

Alfred grinned and pecked Arthur's arm. "I am!" To prove his point, he pulled the Brit a bit closer to himself and buried his head in the crook between Arthur's neck and shoulder.

"Doesn't seem like it." Arthur said teasingly, but he smiled.

Alfred rolled his eyes. "Uh huh. Now be a good Brit and shash."

It was Arthur's turn to roll his eyes. He butted Alfred's neck lightly with his nose. "'Good Brit', what utter nonsense..." he muttered.

Alfred snickered. "Uh huh, like that."

"Shut it, Yank." Just then, Arthur's stomach let out a growl to remind him that he needed food, and preferably sooner than later. "Make me food?"

Alfred snorted. "The Yank was supposed ta shut it, smartass."

"You don't have to yammer on insufferably while you're cooking, idiot." Arthur shot back, but his words were purely affectionate. "There exists such a thing as working silently."

"Mhm. Sounds stupid. And British. Therefore stupid either way, sooo..."

Scowling at him, Arthur untangled his arms and rolled off him. He moved to the other edge of the bed. "If British is so stupid, then I guess you won't miss this." he said in mock-annoyance.

"Whooa. Just because it's stupid don't mean I don't want it~!"

"Make me food, and then we'll see."

"Oi, why can't _you_ make it?"

"Fine then, I will." Arthur rose from the bed and swept from the room, heading for the kitchen.

Alfred groaned and picked himself up as well, breaking into a quick jog to catch up with him. "Whoa, wait for me."

"Then hurry up, love." Arthur called from the kitchen. He got out the necessary ingredients for scones and started mixing them all together. Nothing like a fresh batch of scones to settle a hungry stomach.

Alfred stopped by him, watching his motions for a moment before frowning. "...Scones?"

"Is there a problem with that?"

"...Breakfast."

"So?"

"Scones aren't breakfast."

"They can be for any occasion."

"Uh...huh...well anyways, wanna make some non 'all occasion' food?"

Arthur paused in his mixing to give Alfred a flat glare. "No." He then resumed preparing scones as if nothing had happened.

"Why?!" Alfred whined, leaning over the counter dramatically.

Arthur was unimpressed. "You had your chance to cook."

"Sooo? I dun wanna, but c'mon, not scones."

"Quit whining, or I'll bloody cook _you_ up." Arthur muttered, mixing what was in the bowl with more vehemence. "I'm making scones."

"...Well that can be taken more than one way..."

Arthur blushed a bit. "Shut it."

"Why? Wouldn't that help with the cookin'?" Alfred smirked, leaning down to Arthur's neck.

Arthur shivered. He leaned lightly into the touch for a moment, before shaking himself and focusing more on the scones. "N-No, it will not." he muttered.

Alfred smirked again, moving his nose against the Brit's neck. "Sorry?" he asked, his voice coming out low and husky.

"I-I don't know what the bloody hell you're talking about." Arthur replied, lightly pushing him away.

Alfred pushed right back, even harder. Careful of the wings, he wrapped his arms around Arthur's waist. "I think ya do."

"Alfred, I really would like to finish making these and then eat them. Keep your sexual innuendos for later." He squirmed a bit against him.

"But I like this a loooooooooot better!"

"Alfred I swear, or I'll lock you in the basement with the ghosts!"

Alfred flinched a bit at those words, but he refused to move or let him go. "Come _on_."

"No, I'm hungry. I haven't eaten in early a day, since that omelet you made me." Arthur snapped his fingers and the basement door flew open.

Alfred yelped lightly, moving a bit closer to Arthur. "U-Uh huh, right, sorry."

"So you'll let me cook the blasted scones?"

"W-Well, ya know I like bacon better- but yeah! Of course, the hell else- h- ha ha..."

"Good." Arthur snapped his fingers again and the door swung slowly closed, creaking loudly the entire way.

Alfred shuddered a bit, placing his chin on Arthur's shoulder. "That was _not_ necessary."

"Mhm." Ignoring him, Arthur began placing lumps of the mixture onto a prepared cookie tray.

"Like, not needed _at all_, at all. Got it?"

"Of course, of course." Arthur said dismissively. He slipped out from Alfred's arms and placed the tray in the oven.

Alfred waited for him to stand before hugging him again. "There. Now we wait for the burning. And until then...?"

"I won't burn them, git!" Arthur protested. He lightly pecked Alfred on the nose again, before removing himself from the hug. "And now tea."

"Are you- ughhh." Alfred groaned, leaning his head back in exasperation. "Goddamn, Art. Focus on meeee!"

Arthur smirked briefly at him before walking over and looping his arms around Alfred's neck. He breathed in deeply, inhaling the American's scent. "...Touch my wings, please." he said softly.

"...Whoa there, ugh, why?"

Arthur looked pointedly at Alfred's shoulder. "It...It feels nice." His cheeks were red again, and he shifted his weight a bit from foot to foot.

"Oh." Alfred wrapped his arms around hm and gently stroked one of the wings. "Like that?"

Arthur shuddered. "Yes..." he breathed. "Exactly like that."

"Oh, keep yer sexual innuendos away, America." Alfred mocked in a deep English accent, rolling his eyes.

"That wasn't a sexual innuendo, idiot, it just feels nice. Like that feeling when someone runs their fingers through your hair."

"Oh. Well still." Alfred stuck his tongue out, accidentally hitting Arthur's neck with it as he kept stroking the wings.

"Nnghh..." Arthur let out a low, involuntary moan when he felt the tongue on his neck. "Don't do that." The feathers fluffed up a bit more with pleasure under Alfred's hands.

"Do what?" Alfred snickered lightly. "Fine. We shoulda kept cuddlin'."

"I'll eat and then we can go back to cuddling."

"That's stupid."

"Then what do you suggest?"

"Cuddling, starve."

"If these scones turn out wrong, then perhaps I'll consider it." Arthur said, by way of compromise.

Alfred smirked and fist pumped. "No need to wait, they will~!"

Well, there went the compromise. "Y-You don't know that!"

"Yeah, we all kinda do."

"That is extremely rude- wait, _ALL_? Who in the bloody hell is 'all'?" Arthur demanded.

"...Er...everyone- but that's not the point!"

"Everyone?! All those bloody- wankers- no respect." Arthur fumed, scowling heavily.

Alfred smiled gently. "Fuckers, right? Let's go cuddle, then."

"Well, you included yourself in that group." Arthur pointed out. Suddenly, he remembered the scones and dashed over to the oven, but sure enough, the scones were black lumps. He sighed, and his wings drooped again with sadness.

"Oh Art, s'okay..." Alfred came over and put a hand on Arthur's shoulder.

"No it's not, it never bloody works!" Arthur cried out, extremely frustrated, and brushed the hand off.

"Fucking shit Art, you never gave a shit but now you suddenly do? It's alright." Alfred hugged him. "We'll eat those once they're done steaming."

"Well if something never works out, you're bound to show frustration at some point." Arthur muttered, leaning his head back against Alfred's shoulder. "We don't have to eat those."

Alfred smiled. "I'll eat 'em for you."

"You don't have to do that, as sweet as the suggestion was." Arthur reached for the tray to dump it out.

Alfred stopped him. "I'll eat 'em later, Art."

"...Let's go cuddle now, then." He could always throw the scones out later.

"Cuddling it is. Want me ta carry you again?"

"...Yes, that would be nice." Arthur said, a bit stiffly. His eartips turned a lovely shade of pink.

Alfred smirked with a light nod. He picked him up gently and headed up to the bedroom.

Arthur wrapped his arms around Alfred's neck and held on tightly. He didn't let go, even once it was time to be set down. So Alfred simply lay down with him, slightly on top of him. The wings made complete straddling impossible, but this was close. And it felt nice to both parties. They spent the next hour cuddling; not talking, but simply holding each other and kissing. With each kiss came a battle for dominance.

"Alfred?" Arthur asked after he broke the latest kiss.

"Hmm?" Alfred looked down at him, licking his lips a little. Even underneath him, Arthur put up a good fight.

"I'm going to call the Angel now, all right?" Arthur said carefully. "This wing and toga and halo business has gone on far too long."

"Now? Now now now? As in you're getting drunk now?"

"Yes. Very drunk. And very quickly."

"...Oh shit. Won't you be _really_ hot and vulnerable then?"

"You have to keep me from acting too idiotic. And if you _dare_ take advantage of me..." He let the threat hang unfinished in the air.

Alfred laughed. "C'mon, I'm a hero, I wouldn't."

"Of course not. Carry me downstairs?"

"Ugh, but yer heeeavy."

Arthur whacked him. "I am _not!_"

Alfred snickered. "Uh huh. Anyways, c'mon then, get up and we'll go."

"Can't you just pick me up from here?"

After a few more minutes of bickering, they finally managed to make their way to the kitchen. The bottles were still lined up on the table. Arthur settled down into a chair and unscrewed the first one. Before taking a sip though, he pulled Alfred down into one more kiss.

Alfred sighed, watching him closely after he started drinking. He swallowed nervously from time to time as his cheeks got redder by the minute.

Arthur drained three bottles in less than three minutes. Eventually, he slumped forward on to the table, unconscious. A new halo appeared over his head, and the toga and wings seemed to almost glow brightly.

Alfred's eyes widened and he hesitantly put a hand on Arthur's shoulder. "A-Art?"

Arthur shot up, looking scared for a moment. Then, he saw who it was and relaxed, his face breaking into a soft smile. The red was gone from his cheeks and he didn't seem at all drunk.

"Oh hello there. You startled me a bit. You must be America. Or do you prefer Alfred? I'm Britannia Angel."

Alfred blinked in surprise, before smiling in return. "Yo. Yeah, call me whatever you'd like."

"America then, I think." The Angel said, after regarding him closely for a moment. "Thank you for taking care of England, and my form."

Alfred's smile grew. "Yeah, of course...er...England sir."

"Call me Britannia, or Angel. Though I look like him, I am not England."

"Sorry. Angel sir."

The Angel laughed. "I'm not a 'sir'. Just Angel. Oh, and don't worry about England. When he wakes up he'll be back to normal, hangover-free, and won't remember a thing."

"...S-Sorry, what?" Alfred froze at this, staring at him.

The Angel looked confused. "When I leave in a few minutes, I'll be taking a few things with me. This form- that is, the toga, the wings, and the halo, as well as England's hangover and his memories from the past few days."

"W-Wh- you can't, you can't take his memories!" Alfred's eyes widened as he looked at him, almost begging with them.

"I have to." Under that gaze, even the Angel had to look away. "This whole scenario shouldn't have happened. It was my mistake, and now I have to fix it. The only way is to take away those memories."

"No, no, please, there's nothing to fix. Si- Angel. Please, just...can't you leave them?"

"I can't. It would be against the rules." The Angel thought for a moment. "That is...unless you were to offer something in exchange."

"I...anything. I can give anything. Ah...um...my memories." Alfred's voice quivered. "Take m-mine."

"Yours? Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Will...will it leave his memories alone?"

"He will remember everything. You won't."

"...Al...Alright...then yes...please." Alfred said softly.

"You are brave, America." the Angel said quietly. "And loyal. This will only take a few seconds, and then you'll fall asleep for a little bit." He sounded a bit like a nurse telling her patient that it was going to be okay.

Alfred nodded softly, gulping. "...Thanks." He wished he could kiss Arthur one last time first. But it was the Angel, not Arthur there, so it wouldn't be the same.

The Angel smiled sadly at him and then placed his hands around the American's head. "Goodbye. It really was a pleasure meeting you, and I'm sorry it has to end this way." He watched Alfred sink into unconsciousness, and then removed himself and the hangover from Arthur.

"...You too."

It was all Alfred remembered saying when he woke up against the counter. "Oh fuck." he muttered, yawning and raising his hands up to stretch. Damn, all those bottles...he didn't remember getting drunk. "Arthur? Ya up?" he asked sleepily.

Arthur slowly opened his eyes, and was pleasantly surprised when there was no hangover. He quickly checked, and smiled when he saw he was wingless and back in his normal clothes. His smile grew when he turned to Alfred. "Yes, I'm up. And it worked, I'm back to normal." He walked over and kissed him gently.

Alfred blinked, his eyes widening as he slowly pulled out of the kiss, taking a step back. "Whooooa there, Artie, aha..." He chuckled nervously. "Dinner first."

Arthur frowned a bit, not understanding why Alfred was pulling away. "Alfred? What's wrong?" He stepped forward to kiss him again.

Alfred took another step back, shaking his head. "Listen man, you okay? Still a lil' drunk or somethin'?"

"No, I'm perfectly sober..." Arthur's eyes suddenly widened as he came to a realization. "Do- Do you not remember?" His heart sank a bit as he said this, and he prayed for Alfred to be just kidding around.

"...Er, yeah, not really. Did I drink a lot or somethin'? Alfred scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

"The wings? The halo? Nothing comes to mind?" Arthur asked desperately.

"...No? Oh shit, did we have roleplay sex or something?!"

"No, of course not!" Tears started pooling in Arthur's eyes. "Do you really not remember?"

"...Whoa, Art, no, sorry...er, did I really drink that much? Shit..."

"You didn't bloody drink anything!"

"Oh fuckshit- well calm down, damnit, wow, all right, I get it."

"No you don't! You- I fucking-" Arthur started to laugh hysterically. "Of course this happens to me."

Alfred blinked. "...What? Are you all right- you should lay down, man."

Arthur's thoughts were racing. "A loophole. He had to leave some sort of a loophole. The Angel isn't cruel..." Arthur murmured to himself. Then, he turned to Alfred. "I was an angel, alright? You found me and took care of me and...I..." He froze for a second. "...I gave you a feather..." He lunged forward, searching Alfred's pockets, until he found the feather he'd given him. He held it up to him. "Well?"

Alfred yelped, jumping back when Arthur stuck his hands into his front pockets. "Holy fuck! Private square man, shit! You're going fucking crazy, come lay down."

"No, I'm fine. _Look_ at it, Alfred, just really look, please." Arthur held the feather close to his face.

Alfred didn't, instead pushing Arthur's hand away. "Come on. Or Ill force you to go up, Artie."

Arthur completely broke down then. He simply couldn't take the whole situation, and Alfred's motion was the straw that broke the camel's back. The tears gathered in his eyes spilled over onto his cheeks. "N-No, you said you love me. And I-I said I loved you. W-We cuddled, and kissed, and I was h-_happy_." he sobbed out, not even caring anymore how weak he had to look in that moment. He just couldn't take it anymore.

Alfred's eyes widened. "H-Holy shit, Arthur." He hesitated before hugging him gently. "Listen...I'm sorry, it was all probably just a dream."

Arthur violently pushed him away. "Get the bloody hell _OFF_! It wasn't a dream, I know it wasn't." He cradled the feather gently in his palm and curled over it.

Alfred stumbled slightly, catching himself on his left foot. "...Um...Arthur?"

Arthur didn't answer him, instead gripping the feather even tighter.

"...Arthur, you should lay down." Alfred cooed softly.

"Don't tell me what to do!" Arthur snapped, jerking away from him.

Alfred winced slightly. Well, at least Arthur was somewhat back to normal. "C'mon, I'll help..."

"Get out." Arthur said quietly.

"W-What?"

"Get out of my house, America." Arthur repeated, rising from the chair. His voice was incredibly calm.

"...Art, you're being really bipolar, I just wanna help. Let me at least help you lay down-"

"No! Get out! Now!" Arthur pushed him towards the door. On the inside, though, he was desperately hoping that Alfred would remember. He would even prefer that the American was just pretending, that all this was just some cruel joke, but that wasn't likely. So he kept the pain off his chest and continued pushing.

Alfred winced, pulling away from him. "Arthur, the hero can't leave you alone when you're going through some hard man period moody times."

"I'm not going through any 'hard man period moody times'." Arthur suddenly sank into a chair. He twirled the feather between his fingers for a moment before halfheartedly holding it out. "Please. Just take a look."

"What is it? I didn't know you had birds. Is it an eagle?!"

Arthur's hand shook and sank a bit. "It's not from a bird." he said quietly. "I don't have any birds."

Alfred reached out for it. "Fine, if that'll make you happy. What is it, then?"

"It's my feather." Arthur said, watching him carefully.

"Your fea-" Alfred froze when his fingers touched the feather and he got ahold of it. He stared down at it.

"Yes, mine."

"..." Alfred stayed silent, his eyes not leaving the white feather.

Arthur gently took it back and rose. "Forget it." he murmured quietly, leaving the kitchen.

"...Art?"

"Forget it. It didn't work." Arthur said over his shoulder. "You know, I think I will go lay down. I don't need your help though."

"...Forget what, this is...this is awesome, you're back!"

Arthur froze. "Pardon me?"

"You're back! No wings- are ya tired or some shit?"

"You don't have to pretend, Alfred." Arthur muttered, his shoulders falling. "I know you don't remember." He ran quickly up the stairs and into his bed.

Alfred followed close behind him, but paused at the bedside. "What are ya talkin' about? Don't remember what?!"

"The last few days!" Arthur's voice was muffled by the pillow he was currently pressing his face into.

"The fuck Art, course I do! What's wrong?"

"Well you didn't!" Arthur suddenly sat up. "What did you talk about with the Angel?"

"Huh? ...Oh..."

"'Oh' what?" Arthur raised an eyebrow at him.

"Um..." Alfred scuffled his foot against the ground a bit.

"Spit it out, Alfred!" Arthur was quickly losing patience. He himself remembered nothing of what had transpired, having been out drunk the entire time. "What did he tell you?"

"...He said you'd forget...so I...I said I could instead."

"Alfred..." Arthur sighed. "You idiot, why would you do that?!"

Alfred smiled at him in return. "I didn't want you to forget."

"So you agreed to forget yourself? Do you have _any_ idea how I felt when you pushed me away? Any at all?"

Alfred's heart sank as he looked at him. "...I thought you wouldn't wanna forget..."

"I didn't know anyone would have to forget anything. I'm not familiar with the Angel's rules."

"Well still..."

"You'd have an easier time convincing me of what happened." Arthur said softly. He patted the spot on the bed next to him.

Alfred grinned, shaking his head as he lay down. "You're too stubborn."

"I am not. But you know that I love you, no matter if I confessed to you." Arthur raised a hand and trailed it down Alfred's cheek slowly, almost hesitantly.

Alfred smiled gently. "Same here...did I just think you were crazy?"

Arthur felt tears gathering in his eyes again, and he looked down to hide them. "You- You thought I was drunk at first, and then that we had r-roleplay sex or something like that, and then finally...finally you told me it was all probably a dream..."

Alfred's expression softened and he hugged him very gently. "I'm sorry..."

The tears ran down Arthur's cheeks as he buried his head in Alfred's shirt, leaving wet spots on the fabric. "As long as you remember now..." he whispered.

Alfred smiled and lightly kissed the top of his head. "Uh huh."

But Arthur wasn't satisfied with that small kiss. He rolled over onto his back, pulling Alfred on top of him. He stared up into his blue eyes for a moment before pulling the American down for a deeper kiss.

Alfred blinked in surprise but complied, tilting his head into the kiss a bit. Arthur raised his hands to Alfred's back and opened his mouth for the other man. Said other man raised an eyebrow and snickered before sliding his tongue into Arthur's mouth.

A low moan came from Arthur's throat, and his tongue flicked out to play. He didn't press for dominance this time, but instead swirled around Alfred's tongue to try and please him. The whole him-not-having-dominance thing surprisingly didn't bother him that much. He was quite content underneath Alfred.

Alfred pressed his tongue back, humming softly with pleasure as he thoroughly went through Arthur's mouth. After a while, he pulled back.

Arthur watched him, panting a bit. "How- How was that?"

Alfred grinned. "Hot. Of course, durr."

Arthur smiled back. He then pulled Alfred down again, but this time bit a spot on Alfred's neck, sucking at the area for a while so it would leave a nice red mark. "You're mine." he whispered possessively into Alfred's ear after he'd pulled away. "Only mine."

Alfred grew red in the cheeks, biting his lower lips to keep back a moan. "Nuh uh, other way."

"Is that so? Well, what are you waiting for?" Arthur asked, tilting his head to the side and baring his neck. "Claim me."

Alfred snickered, leaning down close. "Dunno if you deserve it, trying to push me out of the house before." he breathed lowly.

"You- You didn't remember anything!" Arthur's eyes filled with hurt again. "I didn't want to look at you when you were looking at me like before..."

Alfred smiled gently and softly kissed him. "You shoulda. My eyes would have told you how much I still remembered."

"Well they didn't." Arthur angrily bit him again, this time lower on the neck, near the collarbone. This mark was even bigger than the first.

"Ey- oh s-shit- that was supposed to be real emotional and shit, Artie!"

This time Arthur bit him gently, his teeth barely grazing the skin. He then lightly licked the spot, before running his tongue over the other two.

The scowl that was on Alfred's face when Arthur didn't answer him fell away. He moaned softly, glancing at him. "D-Dammit, stoppit."

Arthur smirked and chuckled darkly. He proceeded to pepper Alfred's neck and shoulders with little, light love bites, always making sure to lick them afterwards. "Why?" he breathed.

"Y-Yer a lil' shit, Artie." Alfred muttered. "My turn."

"Go ahead then. We'll see if you can do better." Arthur challenged.

Alfred stretched his neck out, already feeling warm all over. He leaned closer to Arthur and first ran his tongue down the Brit's jaw before raising his knee up enough to press it in gently between Arthur's legs.

"S-Shit Alfred, stop that." Arthur shuddered at the action, and his hips rose slightly in response.

Alfred smirked and only did it more, lowering his tongue to Arthur's neck.

Arthur gasped at the warm, wet touch, and let out a low groan. "A-Alfred..." he managed to get out.

"Who can do it better, huh?" Alfred asked, still smirking.

"Bastard, I wasn't even trying down there!"

"Sorry?" Alfred pressed his knee up more.

"Bloody-" Arthur bucked his hips a bit. "S-Stop that, that's not fair!"

Alfred shut him up with a short kiss, before going back down a little lower and searching Arthur's neck for his sweet spot. He hit it eventually and Arthur let out a soft, throaty whine, and pressed up against him even more. His arms tightened around Alfred's body. Alfred stopped there to bite down and suck on the spot gently, flicking his tongue out against it.

"O-Oh..." Arthur's lower region tightened, and he went completely limp with pleasure. He closer his eyes and bit his lip to keep from making any more noise.

Alfred focused on sucking so he left a nice hickey, before glancing up. "Hmm? I won already?"

"No, of course not." Arthur forced out stubbornly. "It's _nice_ but..."

"But?" Alfred pressed his knee up even more, and sucked harder on the sweet spot.

"H-Heh, anyone can do that." Arthur struggled to hide his responses, but somehow managed to stay quiet.

Alfred rolled his eyes, leaning up to Arthur's ear to reply in a husky voice. "S'that so? Not anyone can do a hot American accent."

"That's not such a big deal." Arthur muttered back, trembling ever so slightly.

Alfred grinned. "Is it?" he asked even more softly.

"N-No, it's not."

"You suuuuure?"

"It's h-hard to please a former Empire." Arthur said, but his voice was weakening.

Alfred snickered softly, his nose against Arthur's ear. "_Former_."

"Shut up."

"But my voice is too hot."

"I said shut up." Arthur kissed him roughly.

Alfred pressed back harder, and took ahold of Arthur's wrists, pinning them down at his sides. Arthur struggled against him, but didn't break the kiss. He also kept his mouth firmly closed. Alfred pressed himself down against Arthur, to keep him from struggling. He pressed again in between his legs before biting down on his lower lip.

Arthur squeezed his eyes shut tightly and shook with pleasure, but he refused to give in. Alfred licked his lips before trying again with a bite. Not able to take it anymore, Arthur tried pulling away.

Alfred kept him in place, straddling him gently. He licked one more time, before biting down again. Arthur's mouth finally fell open, but his tongue immediately flicked forward to deny the American entrance. Alfred easily swirled his tongue around Arthur's and got into his mouth, grinning in triumph.

"Bastard." Arthur muttered against his lips.

"Winner~!" Alfred sang back with a smirk.

"Still a bastard."

"Naw."

"Yes." Arthur jerked back, finally breaking the two of them apart, and turned his head, exposing his cheek.

Alfred was fine with that, and started to spoil his cheek with little kisses. "I love you."

"I love you too." Arthur murmured, running his fingers through Alfred's hair. "So, so much, Alfred."

* * *

**A/N**: Aaaaand, we're done! Some action for you guys at the end there, but nothing major~ Thanks for reading and reviewing and following and favouriting!


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